


Timbers and Wind

by TrickstersHeir



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Gen, The Joining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 18:31:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3820537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrickstersHeir/pseuds/TrickstersHeir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Cousland always does his duty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Timbers and Wind

 Jon had known from the moment Daveth had pressed the chalice to his lips, that the other recruit was a dead man. Just as he had known there was no hope for his Lord Father when he first laid eyes upon his broken form in the larder, just as he had known there was no chance of prying his Lady Mother away from the Teryn’s fading corpse. Perhaps he should have been more shocked as he watched Daveth collapse, dead before he even hit the ground. Perhaps he should have been as fearful as Jory was. Perhaps he should have doubted the Wardens when he saw the look of complete apathy in the Lord-Commander’s eyes.  
  
Perhaps there were many things Jonathan Alexander Cousland should have thought, and yet nothing came to him all the same. All of his rage, all of his pain, all of his need for vengeance, it all rested heavily enough on his mind to blur any sense of self-preservation or sympathy. He watched with an unreadable expression as Ser Jory panicked.  
  
“I have a wife, back in Highever! We have a child on the way!” Jory had protested. “Please, surely you can see sense!”  
  
The desperate plea was directed at Jon. _“If she was in Highever, then she is dead already.”_ Jon wanted to say. _“Arl Howe sacked Highever. His men put the village to the torch. If she’s not dead yet, she will be soon.”_  
  
Instead, he responded with a chilling silence and a piercing blue stare. He ignored the aging knight, just as he ignored the rise of bile in his throat as Lord-Commander Duncan drove his dagger into Ser Jory’s heart, just as he had first ignored his Lady Mother screaming for him to run, to run and remember.  
  
Oh did he remember. Jon remembered watching the fires raging over Castle Cousland, consuming everything in their paths. He remembered his Lady Mother’s cries as she looked upon the lifeless eyes of Oren and Oriana, his brother’s son and wife. He remembered the twang of his bowstring as he launched arrow after arrow into Arl Howe’s men. He remembered how he had screamed at killers who were sacking his childhood home, how he’d felt only blinding fury as he rushed for the main hall with his Lady mother at his side and his mabari warhound at his heels. He remembered the one glimpse he had gotten of Ser Gilmore falling to cover their last-minute charge to the servant’s quarters.  
  
Above all, however, he remembered looking upon Teryn Bryce Cousland and losing his last hope. The wolf who fought tooth and nail to slow the assault by Arl Howe’s men, fading into the pup as he stumbled the short steps towards his Lord Father. A bolt had pierced Bryce’s chest, embedding itself just below his heart. It didn’t take a healer to know that the wound was fatal. His Father would never survive standing up, let alone fleeing from servant’s exit. His Lady Mother tried to comfort her husband, to shush him and say that they would seek out mage, a spirit healer, to save him. It was no use. The Teryn had already accepted his fate.  
  
Jon remembered his own denial of a painful reality, one that still had his heart bleeding. He had tried so hard to convince himself and his parents they could escape together. All the same, his Lord Father pushed him towards Duncan and told him to run, to find his elder brother and to keep the Cousland line alive. His Lady Mother already had daggers drawn, ready to cover their escape as the sound of footsteps grew ever closer.  
  
Duncan had to drag Jon away, while his Lady Mother called to him her final words. “Run! Run, my clever pup, and remember. A Cousland always does his duty. Run and remember it!”  
  
_A Cousland always does his duty._  
_Run and remember._  
  
Teryna Eleanor’s final words had spurred her son on, had set him hot on Duncan’s heels as they fled through the servant’s quarters. Tears burned in his eyes as he ran, blurring his vision but not slowing him down. The moment they exited the Castle grounds, he and Duncan mounted the two geldings in the servant’s stables and rode straight for Ostagar. As they fled, Jon allowed himself a final glance at the burning wreck of the once proud Castle Cousland and almost lost himself. If not for Duncan, the fool boy would have run straight back. If not for Duncan, he would have perished at Howe’s hands like his parents.  
  
If not for Duncan, he wouldn’t be standing in the pavilion at Ostagar, a bloodstained chalice being pressed into his hand. Though Jon could see the obvious fear and apprehension in Alistair’s eyes, he found he could not share in it. Lord-Commander Duncan urged him on, saying “Drink, and let the joining be complete.”  
  
_A Cousland always does his duty._  
_If I look back I am lost._  
  
With eyes locked firmly on Duncan, Jon pressed the chalice of darkspawn blood to his lips and drank.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this for a high school english class assignment, thus the lack of swearing and the mostly short content. It's meant to be an insight on my M!Cousland's mental state during the Howe attack on Highever/The Joining. The title is a reference to the song Timbers and Wind by Paola Bennet, which in turn was written for the Red Wedding in A Song Of Ice and Fire/Game of Thrones. 
> 
> Feedback is always appreciated!


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